Crossroads
by LoveofVelma
Summary: On the way home from a concert, the gang is involved in an accident, the Mystery Machine is totaled. As the only one uninjured, Shaggy, with limited help from the girls have a mystery to solve and a new Mystery Machine to find. A Mystery SUV anyone?
1. Chapter 1

Crossroads

Disclaimer: The usual, I don't own anything.

A/N: Thanks to Ally82 for her Beta work and to Jazzola for suggestions to tweak this story into something worth reading.

Chapter One: Accident

Part One: Lights Out

It was later than anyone realized when the gang left the concert which had been a loud but pleasant diversion for the evening.

"Are you sure you're awake enough to drive? We can stay over, go home tomorrow." A concerned Daphne took his arm.

"No rooms available because of the concert." Fred responded, smiling into her green eyes. "I'll grab a caffeine loaded soda on the way out of town. I'll be fine."

Once they made their way out of town and the bright lights, the darkness closed in. The headlights broke the night in a yellowish glow. The night was clear, the road dry; stars twinkled in the nighttime sky. Fred reached for the cold soda, taking a deep drought. Dancing with Daphne nestled in his arms had been delightful. He had taken his eyes off the road for only a few seconds when he attempted to return the cup to its holder.

"Freddie! Look out!" Daphne screamed. Tires screamed in protest as Fred attempted to make the upcoming curve. Daphne's head hit the side window, then forward striking the windshield. A high pitched yell came from the back of the van as Velma, Shaggy and Scooby flew about.

"Hold On!" Fred shouted as the tires slipped off the pavement. A professional driver might have saved the situation; Fred was a very good driver but he wasn't a pro. The tires lost what traction they had and the van slued into the ravine that ran beside the roadway.

The brightly painted van slammed into the opposite bank, the rear becoming airborne then settling down on two flat tires. White steam rose up over the hood of the van. The headlights flickered, dimmed then went out.

In the stillness of the night, a dog barked.

Part Two: Hospital Visit

Shaggy hated the hospital. Hated the smell, hated the cafeteria food, hated being squeezed into a crowded postage stamp sized room. He would visit his friends later, coping with the feelings of guilt and disbelief. He had been the first to regain consciousness, making his way through and over the debris, to check on Velma first.

Her right arm rested at an impossible angle; with only a rudimentary first aid kit, he could only settle her into as comfortable position before moving on to Daphne. She was unconscious, not responding as he cleaned the facial cuts. At least she hadn't gone through the windshield. He had to wonder why?

Fred had suffered the most, his chest hitting the steering wheel. Blood streaked down his face in ever increasing rivulets. Shaggy guessed there had to be internal injuries. This was going to take more than a band-aid but that was all he had. In abundance.

He made his way back to Velma, pulling her into a close embrace, careful of her broken arm. All he could do now was wait for help.

-Xxx

With trembling knees he walked by the gift shop, turning left to the bank of elevators. Leaving the elevator, he checked in at the nurse's station before heading toward Velma's room. They had secured her in a stark white room, her arm in a milky white cast. Plaster bandages covered her forehead and most of one cheek. He did find one small patch; he leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"You can do better than that, Shaggy." With her good hand she guided his lips to meet hers in an "I'm not your sister" kiss. Her lips were soft, yielding to his. She reluctantly freed his lips.

"Have you seen Daphne?" He eased down on the bed, holding her hand.

"No, she's next on my list. I did talk to the doctor, she's going to be fine. She has a concussion and she has some bruises that will match her dress..."

"Always color coordinated." Her laugh was infectious, "That's our Daphne. And...Fred?"

"Not so good, Velms. He's still listed in serious but stable condition." God! He hated hospitals but more tender feelings led him to kiss her lips. Several times. They reluctantly broke the kisses when a white clad nurse interrupted them to take Velma's vital signs.

Part Three: Shaggy Investigates

Shaggy was glad to get out of the hospital. It seemed like with each stay, he had left something behind. His tonsils on one visit, his appendix on another. Daphne was an angel; alert, beautiful as always and complaining about having nothing to wear. She was being held overnight as a precaution for the concussion she had suffered in the accident.

"Have you ever been bored, Shaggy? I'm so bored I could spit and a lady, like myself, doesn't spit."

"And you don't have a pan to spit in. What seems to be the problem...Lady Daphne?"

"Everything! Have you seen what you have wear around here! Drafty, disfigured, shapeless! And that's the sheets! I won't describe these hospital gowns!"

"You're okay, Daphne. You still have your sense of humor."

"How's Velma, Shaggy?"

"Broken arm, scratches, bruises."

"How did she break her arm?"

"Don't ask what happened in the back...and I won't ask what happened in front to distract Fred."

Daphne thought about that a moment, "Nothing happened...deal."

Fred had been unconscious, by plan according to the doctor Shaggy had talked to. With a concussion, three broken ribs, bruised sternum from the steering wheel and a broken clavicle and dislocated shoulder it would take six to eight weeks to fully heal. He had been heavily sedated because of the pain.

-Xxx

The visits with Daphne and Fred had been short due to his aversion to hospitals in general and seeing his friends in such dire circumstances specifically. And he wanted to take a look at the Mystery Machine. Or what was left of the once proud machine. And he needed to do whatever he intended to do before the insurance adjuster showed up mid morning.

He walked around the van, making notes as he went. It wasn't pretty. The old van had been through 4 engines and the same number of transmissions. It had been everything to the gang, from kitchen, restaurant, motel and at times hospital as they had traveled from Australia to Egypt, Scotland to Wyoming, U. S. A. and every place in between. Shaggy had a feeling about what he'd find when he slid underneath on the creeper.

Finishing the investigation, Shaggy appeared from under the van to find Scooby staring at him, his paw held off the floor. He wouldn't have to pretend to have a sore paw during the next mystery.

"Time for dinner, Scoob ol' buddy?"

"Rast Rime!"

"Guess I forgot the time. Let's grab something to eat."

-Xxx

After Scooby and Shaggy had their fill which took some time, Scooby had sacked out, playing his hurt paw for all the sympathy he could get. Shaggy sat at the table, examining the pages of notes he had made. He would have to talk to the rest of the gang but his first impression was being proven right.

The old war wagon had seen its last mystery.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Crossroads

Chapter Two: Sabotage

When an accident happens, several agencies are brought to bear. The van had been found by a passing local patrolman who radioed in for an ambulance. A second ambulance was called for when it was determined four souls would need transportation. Thus began the local police investigation. Yellow police tape was stretched around the van, tire ma was measured and transposed onto a sketch made by the local officer. Shaggy had been the one to contact the insurance company who would preform their own investigation. The State Police would be called in if foul play was suspected.

The local patrolman, an officer by the name of Williams, was tall, good looking and ex-military from the hair cut and bearing, had been first on the scene and worked the accident as such. Shaggy answered his questions as well as possible but from the back seat he hadn't seen or heard anything except Fred calling out to "Hang on." Velma backed up this report with her own statement accounting to the same. Any more questions would have to be answered by Daphne and Fred who were sitting in the front, whenever their doctor allowed it.

Officer Williams waited until both ambulances had departed, Fred Jones and Daphne Blake in the first, Norville 'Shaggy' Rogers and Velma Dinkley in the second. He walked over to look at the skid marks on the pavement, preparing the length to the diagram he had made of the accident. Shaking his head that two couples out for an evening of fun should end up like this. He had seen it too many times; at least it looked like alcohol had not been involved. He'd have to wait for toxicology to eliminate drugs.

He radioed in, clearing his unit from the accident and continued his patrol.

Shaggy had tried to sleep but between Scooby whining about his hurt paw and the nagging thought that he'd missed something important had robbed him of slumber until exhaustion had forced him to sleep.

The insurance adjuster showed up on time, clipboard in hand. Shaggy lead him to the garage and stayed out of the way, sipping hot chocolate, while the adjuster made the same examination Shaggy had made the night before.

"I'll be turning in my report, the company will be contacting you, Mr. Rogers." With that delivered as if he was reading a movie line from a cue card, the adjuster departed.

Shaggy was still concerned that he'd missed something during his first inspection. Lying on the creeper he slid underneath the wrecked van. Thirty minutes later he found what had been bothering him. He'd have to go back to the scene of the accident for confirmation before he said anything but he was sure of what he'd find. First was a call to the local car rental establishment; a rental van was delivered within the hour.

The phone rang and Shaggy went inside to answer it. "Shaggy, the doctor will release me and Velma but we need transportation. Can you pleeease pick us up?"

"Sure, but we have a stop before we come home." He found the girls packed and eager to leave as soon as he arrived. They stopped in to see Fred on the way out, he was doing better and with assurances that they would visit at the evening visitation hours, they left the hospital.

Shaggy stopped the rental and assisted Velma with her cast, the three walked the scene. Shaggy squatted down, studying some red liquid on the pavement before stepping off the skid marks.

"What are you looking for, Shaggy? A clue?" Velma had been looking at the embankment where the van had come to rest.

"More like confirmation of a clue I found this morning." Shaggy continued to examine the pavement.

"And did you find the confirmation?" Daphne asked.

"Yes, enough to call in the State police. To borrow Fred's line, we have a mystery to solve."

"What mystery, Shaggy, it was an accident. Wasn't it?" Velma joined Daphne, both girls looking at Shaggy.

"Look," he pointed at the skid marks, "something happened here, Fred applied the brakes, trying to regain control of the skid. That liquid is brake fluid, he had brakes for roughly nine feet, then the skid marks fade out, indicating all the fluid had been pumped out.

I found where the brake lines had been damaged, not cut, just a small slash, but it was enough."

"You mean..." Daphne caught what Shaggy had been saying.

"I mean it wasn't an accident...Fred never had a chance. Sometime while we were at the concert, the van's brakes were sabotaged."

"Jeepers! What do we do now?" Daphne cringed at the thought of Fred still in the hospital. "Shaggy, do we have to call the State Police?"

"We go home. I don't thing we'll find anything more here. You girls need to rest before we visit Fred later. We'll talk about the State Police at home." Shaggy eased toward the girls, lowering his voice, " Don't move or turn around. Start walking toward the van."

"Why? What's going on, Shaggy?" Velma smiled when Shaggy put his arm around her waist.

"We're being watched."

-Xxx

The man was young but out of shape. It had been easy to follow the new van from the hospital; Once he guessed where the three were going, he had sped up, beating them to the curve. Hiding his car on an old fire road, he'd hiked up to be ready for their arrival. That part hadn't been as easy as he'd thought it would be. A pair of binoculars swung by a strap around his neck.

Moving through the trees, he ignored the songs of the birds, the pine scent of the forest. Only one thing

occupied his mind, getting in place to observe why they were returning to the scene of the 'accident'. His only regret was he didn't have a high powered rifle with him; he made a mental note to correct that oversight as soon as possible. The red head seemed to be nervous, he wondered how it would feel to have her begging him for mercy he had no intention to give. But those thoughts would have to wait.

His lips curled into a lopsided smile at the brunette with her arm in a cast.

They were leaving and didn't seem to have found anything. The man rushed ahead, arriving at his car, leaving ahead of the van. It was simple to let them overtake him; they never knew they were being followed.

-Xxx

Visiting hours were busy when Daphne, Velma and Shaggy entered the hospital and made their way to Fred's room. He smiled when they walked in, "Hey, guys. Thanks for the flowers."

"I may like you, Fred but not that much, I didn't send flowers." Shaggy looked at the large vase of flowers sitting on the patient's table.

"Did you read the card, Freddie?" Velma picked the small card from the arrangement.

"No, I must have been asleep when they were delivered."

"They better not be from some girl!" Daphne's lips brushed his.

"Shaggy, read this." Velma handed the enclosed card.

"'SEE YOU SOON.'" Shaggy read. The note was written all in capitals and was unsigned. "Velma, Looks like you found another clue."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Crossroads

Chapter three: Masquerade

Part one

Shaggy nodded slightly at Velma, indicating they should leave. Daphne and Fred paid no notice as the couple slipped out of the room. Doctor's rounds had been completed; a few doctors stood around the nurses station, writing out nightly orders for patients. Nurses answered bells requesting any number of things from fresh water to an extra blanket.

"Shaggy," Velma placed her good hand in his, "the flowers were bugged and I don't mean the wiggly kind."

"I suspected they might be. Daphne is the best medicine for Fred right now, let's let them have some time together..."

"And us?" He returned the sly smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"I could use something to eat; how about I take you some where romantic?"

"And where would that be, Romeo?" Their embrace was circumspect as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"The hospital cafeteria. We need to stick around for Daphne."

"Oh, how romantic." A disappointed Velma squeezed his hand.

-Xxx

The pasta dish had turned into a greasy glob, the mashed potatoes and gravy resembled a gray glue. Hospital staff on break had gathered in one area, visitors like Shaggy and Velma were grouped in another area.

"I wonder if the high school and hospital cafeterias get their food from the same place?" Shaggy pushed the uneaten food away. "Even I draw the line at what I'll eat."

Velma waved at Daphne when she entered the room. Her friend looked disheveled and who could blame her after what they had experienced. Her red hair, usually so neat, looked like it hadn't seen a brush in a week. Daphne dabbed at her eyes as she joined shaggy and Velma.

"I don't care what it takes, I want the freakazoid that did this. Freddie looks so helpless."

'Not too helpless according to the smeared lipstick and disheveled dress,' Velma observed.

"We'll get him, Daphne. Velma, tomorrow, could you check the whereabouts of some of our friends we've put out of the way? Daphne, we can't keep renting the van. You can start a search for a replacement for the Mystery Machine. A Mystery SUV might be nice."

"And what are you going to be doing?" Both girls asked at once.

"Sleeping," Shaggy responded.

-Xxx

Part two

The young man turned off the receiver, he didn't expect to hear anything more from that despised man's room. What he had heard, the sounds of their kissing, the rustle of sheets when she stretched out beside the blond man, the murmurs of their whisperings made him sick; the red head should be doing those things with him!

And she would, and more, soon. He looked around the darkened room, he liked the dark, every contingency had been planned for. The fire had destroyed the upper part of the building but not here in the basement. No, the fire had not touched his hiding place. Let them search, they would never find him. Very soon the red head would be with him, in his arms. He could almost feel her lips, her body against his own, hear her screams when he released...

But first, a visit to the hospital and the elimination of his rival. Cut off the head of a snake and the whole body died. He snickered as he thought of the hated Mystery Inc., with no head. The snicker rose to a grotesque sound, reverberating throughout the old building. The deranged laughter ceased when he heard the scratching, squeaking, gnawing noises coming from the walls.

The man took a sharpening stone and a knife from the table. He spit on the stone and began a small circular motion. The knifes must be razor-sharp for their work. He went about his business, not stopping until he was pleased. He ran his thumb over the blade of the knife, a drop of blood forming on

the pad of his thumb. Sticking his thumb in his mouth, he sucked, tasting the copper flavoring of his own blood. He wondered if her blood would taste as salty sweet.

An old stained canvas bag sat at one corner of the table, he unzipped it, examining the contents. Dropping the knives into the bag, he listened to the sound of the zipper as it closed the pack. Taking a last look around the room, checking to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything, he hadn't. He left the old gutted building and began to whistle the theme from the movie, "Psycho"; he loved the old movie.

"Soon, my red headed beauty, very soon."

-Xxx

Part three

In the still of the night death stalked the corridors of the hospital. He was born in his sixteenth year; the same day his mother died. Without a father around, his mother tried to be both. She was the first with a casserole for any sick friend in the neighborhood. He was reduced to leftovers for food and love. He had followed her one night when she said she was taking food to a sick friend. He wasn't surprised to find her 'friend' wasn't sick.

It took two days for him to lay his plans.

The room lay quiet as the blond in the bed. The IV dripped one drop at a time into the plastic tube. Drip. Drip. Drip. He would prefer to use a knife but that would cause too many questions; a hypodermic needle lay secure in the white lab coat, ready for use. As planned, the needle was empty, filled with air. A simple plunge into the tube would cause an embolism and an unexplained death.

Just like his mother's death, the knife had slid so smoothly between her ribs into her heart. There had been little blood, easily cleaned and disposed of. Death, a sixteen year old minor was sent to live with his uncle who raised him from that point on.

His mother was the first, but she hadn't stayed dead. Red headed, some would call her beautiful, above average bust, he had had to kill her many times since that first time. Had it been ten or twelve times? He wasn't sure anymore. She had haunted his life and dreams for so long and now he had found her again.

He approached the bed pulling the needle from the stolen lab coat. It wasn't the perfect costume but it would do. Even a nurse had stopped him to ask for help in moving a patient into the elevator on the way for some test or other. She never realized how close she was to death.

There would be no trial when the blond was found dead; there had been no trial because of his mother's first death. The police didn't believe such a kind, loving son could have done such a horrific action.

Police were stupid, believing his story that he had gone for a walk in the cool night. Technically, he didn't have an alibi, no one had seen him walking, mainly because he had been too busy to leave the house.

The point of the needle slid into the receptor and he pressed the plunger, sending air into the line. He stepped back, admiring his work.

Unexpectedly, the door opened, a brown haired man entered, "What are you doing?"

The man wasn't fit but the fist that hit Shaggy in the stomach was enough to make him bend over, gasping for breath. Shaggy caught a glimpse of a white coat, and the disfigured mask that hid the assailant's face; frozen with the fear that he had seen that mask before, he was unable to stop the man running from the room.

The smell of smoke was prevalent in the wake of the ghastly retreating figure but it was the mask that halted Shaggy from following.

It was a grotesque image of a pirate.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Crossroads

Chapter Four: Taken

He had a plan; part one had been the elimination of the blond headed leader of Mystery Inc., check. He had always been a careful driver; something as simple as a speeding ticket could spell disaster. His uncle had told him this and he believed it with all his heart. He believed everything his uncle told him.

Driving well within the residential speed limit, the black van passed by the building known as Mystery Inc. Headquarters. The man parked several blocks away, waiting for what little street traffic there was to clear.

The elementary lock system was no problem, he was in.

The house was filled with the usual night sounds, a ticking clock, air conditioning kicking on and off, keeping the house at a comfortable temperature for sleeping, the natural settling of an older home. The dark hallway beckoned; she was here, he could smell her. To be safe, he needed to check the other rooms.

First room, clear, reasonably neat, obviously a man's room. Could this be the blond's room; a room that he wouldn't be using ever again? Second room, also vacant, clothes thrown from wall to wall. A dog slept on an old blanket but didn't stir as he closed the door.

The next room wasn't empty, the brunette lay asleep. As long as she stayed asleep he wouldn't disturb her...for now. The one he wanted must be in the last bedroom.

Her red hair contrasted nicely with the purple flowered sheets; a comforter lay folded at the foot of the four poster bed. He stood still a moment, mesmerized, watching her breasts rise and fall with each breath. Another moment to listen for any noise that could destroy this, the second part of his plans. He heard nothing.

"Hello, Mother. We meet once again."

-Xxx

Part two

"Velma! Daphne!" Shaggy ran into headquarters. It had been useless to run after Fred's attacker. As soon as Shaggy had entered the hallway the only people in sight were staff going about their nightly rounds.

Shaggy had determined that this mystery was directed at Mystery Inc. as a group, not individuals; eliminating Fred, the leader, was logical after arranging the accident. The question that plagued Shaggy was would their enemy go to ground, which would be expected, or would he use the remainder of the night to strike again. The girls were home alone. Scooby was there too, but with a wounded paw he could only serve as a noisy alarm.

Shaggy raced out of the hospital; he rationalized that Velma should be the next victim. Even as he rammed the keys in the ignition, he knew he'd be too late. That didn't stop him from pressing down on the accelerator, pressing for every second.

"What's wrong, Shaggy? Is it Fred?" Velma threw open her door. Dressed in a short, orange-colored nightie, she threw her arms around his waist.

"Are you okay?" The warmth of her body, fresh from sleep, was heady and exciting in an erotic way.

"I'm fine, Shaggy," she raised her head, looking deep into his eyes. He had been afraid many times but what she saw in his eyes now alarmed yet thrilled her. She saw a fear for her safety.

"Daphne?" The unasked question floated between them. So this wasn't about Fred.

"We went to bed soon after you dropped us off..." They hurried further down the hall toward Daphne's room. They stood in front of the door, fearful of what they would, or would not, find. No noise of any kind could be heard from the other side of the door.

"Better let me go first." Before he could object, Velma had twisted the doorknob, entering the room.

"Shaggy!" She yelled, "Daphne isn't here." He had entered on her footsteps to see the truth of her statement. The bed was empty, covers missing or thrown back. The window was open to the night air but Shaggy doubted if this was the way she had been taken. An unmistakable scent of chloroform hung in the air.

A piece of paper on her nightstand caught his eye; picking it up he read:

"1,000,000 dollars in small unmarked bills to get your friend back.

No police or she dies.

I'll be in touch."

He handed the dirty note to Velma, taking her in his arms. "We'll get her back. I promise. Velma, we've got a lot of work to do and not much time. Get on your computer, I'll make some hot chocolate, here's what you'll be looking for." He had told her of the incident at the hospital, the smell of smoke, which he had recently noticed in Daphne's room.

It had taken nearly an hour for Velma to perform the search per the parameters Shaggy had given her.

She had narrowed the results to three possibilities, then enlarged the investigation when she spotted a clue and decided to see where it would lead them. She sipped the last of the hot chocolate, placing the cup aside. Consulting the copious notes she had taken, she turned to face Shaggy at last.

"I found three possible cases from or past that involved pirates. I eliminated one; the villain is still in prison. We should check out both remaining cases but one might be the one we're looking for except for one detail."

Shaggy had been looking over her shoulder as her fingers flew over the keyboard. The restricted view down her nightie had been enticing to the point of making his jeans grow smaller, or so it seemed.

"What detail,Velma?"

"Do you remember our first real kiss?" Her sultry voice told of the kiss; the sweet kiss that had sparked the rash dating. The meandering walks in the park, interrupted by lingering kisses.

"How could I forget?" His nearness made her shiver...or was it his breath on her neck? "The Strand Theater where you jumped into my arms. Old Pietro's Puppets." he took her hands, urging her to stand on rubbery knees.

"Pietro was an old man when he went to prison for counterfeiting. He died in the prison infirmary two years ago." She could barely think as his lips nuzzled her neck, his hands drifting south to find the hem of her nightgown. "but the Strand Theater burned last year."

"That has to be it, Velma. Do a search for relations; he had to have help with that operation."

"I'll need another cup of chocolate, and less interruptions." Her lips were sweet, tasting of chocolate, her satiny skin soft under his fingertips.

Another half hour and a cup of chocolate yielded positive results.

"A nephew," she announced, "came to live with Pietro when he was sixteen after his mother died. He wasn't in town when Pietro was arrested so he was never connected to the case. I did do a background check...Shaggy, his mother had red hair! There have been twelve unsolved murders of women with red hair covering roughly ten years...now, get this, those murders were in towns that Pietro's Puppets played a week later. The nephew was suspected but there was never enough evidence for an arrest. Then he disappeared soon after the death of his uncle."

"He must have been working as an advance man, renting theaters for the performances, and arranging for the sell of the counterfeit money. Twenty-five or thirty cents on the dollar would turn a neat profit."

"I could use an interruption about now. We have a long day ahead, we need our rest." She took his hand, leading him to the bed.

-Xxx

Daphne woke to the smell of decay and smoke from an old fire. She tried to move but found she had been tied spread-eagled to the old bed. Bed covers from her bed had been spread over her from the waist down. She felt a hand rub over her breasts; she tried to squirm away from the disgusting encroachment.

"Good morning, mother. Did you sleep well?" The raspy voice made her skin crawl.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Crossroads

Chapter five: Bound

Part one

They had danced under the sheets, taking the time to fully explore this new found level in their relationship. Velma found her new (and first) lover surprisingly well versed in the art of lovemaking, quickly picking up on her clues as to where and when to touch, caress, or stroke. Fully sated, they had fallen asleep in the afterglow. The sleep of the lovers was soon interrupted; tossing and turning with the newness of having someone (trying) to sleep in the same bed.

Sleep evaded the new couple, also because of Daphne's predicament. She had always been "danger-prone" as Fred had commented but this was the first time that a ransom note had been left behind.

"Can't sleep, Shaggy?" Velma sat up, reaching for her glasses. Self conscious of her nakedness, she located her nightie, pulling it over her head, adjusting it over her breasts. The first nervous lingering morning kiss as lovers followed.

"No, I guess we might as well get up. I can't imagine what Daphne is feeling right now. It's going to be a long day."

"I need a shower and so do you, if you know what's good for you. I could use some coffee, would you mind?"

"I'll get the coffee going, then take my shower. Velma, I have something in mind for today, we can talk over coffee."

"I bet I know what you have in mind, but let's free Daphne first. There's no telling what will happen to Daphne when the kidnapper finds out there will be no ransom or no one here to contact."

Later, after showering, dressing, Shaggy explained what he had in mind over coffee. An hour later, the fully loaded four door SUV pulled out of the driveway. It still had the new smell, plenty of space for the selected equipment, but it wasn't the Mystery Machine. When Velma secured the seat belt across her chest, she noticed that Shaggy liked the way the belt emphasized her breasts.

Part two

Daphne screamed. Her screams awakened the scratching, squeaking, rustling sounds coming from the walls. "I'm not your mother!" She lunged forward, jerking the straps tight against her hands. "Let me loose!"

He ignored her, his hand roaming over her body from breasts to lower abdomen. "Don't yell, Mother. It only excites my little friends; they do like their food dripped in blood. I have an errand I have to attend to, then we can have a little talk, Mother."

"Just wait till Fred shows up to rescue me! He's not going to be happy with what you're doing!"

His laugh made her cringe, "Your dear Fred is dead, Mother. Dead Fred isn't going to rescue you or anybody."

Deciding on a different tact, Daphne shut out the scraping noises, laying back on the bed.

"Before you go, I need, really need, to use the restroom. You do have facilities don't you?"

"You just want me to let you go so you can try to escape...if you're good, Mother, I might let you go."

"I promise...son...I won't try to escape. I'll be good."

There would be no rest in this restroom. Trash littered the floor from wall to wall, mold (she guessed it must be mold), had grown half way up the walls. The bar of soap, usually white, now lay black against a filthy sink. She rubbed a clean spot on the old cracked mirror, 'What do I do now?' She asked the reflection.

She didn't like the answers the image that stared back gave but what choices did she have? 'You can try to escape! You're free!' was one answer. But could she get past Freaky waiting just outside the door? And Freaky Freak had a knife, a sharp knife she knew.

The other option coming from the reflection was even more horrific.

'Stay, wait for Fred.' Just the thought sent icy chills racing up and down her spine. She didn't think she could get by Freaky and his knife and as long as she stayed alive, there was hope and hope was all she had left. Cringing, she did her best to finish quickly.

He met her when she opened the door. She hesitated when she saw the bed; badly stained, she refused to think what the rust colored stain was. It took every ounce of courage she could muster to lay back on the foul bed and let him reapply the straps. They were leather straps, she noticed, like bindings on a hospital bed to hold down unruly patients. She had to wonder where and how he had acquired them.

'Come quickly, Freddie. I don't know how long I can stand this.' She had hoped against hope that the errand he had mentioned would be enough for him to make a mistake. She would take any minor error.

The Freak had said Fred was dead, but she hadn't believed him. If she had, she would never have allowed him to secure her to the bed.

It was minor, that mistake, but it was major for Daphne. She had washed her hands but couldn't bring herself to use the towel hanging on the wall; using her nightgown instead. She waited until she was sure he had left. The burnt-out theater was quiet. Wait! That wasn't quite right, she could still hear the rats in the walls. Her arms had been secured to the bed posts, with a calmness that surprised her, Daphne scooted her bottom as far left as she could, bringing the strap on her right wrist taught.

Daphne closed her eyes against the pain she knew was coming and pulled. The band of leather slid down her wrist until it jammed up against the meaty part of her thumb. Fred had told her repeatedly that she had dainty hands, she prayed he had been right. She pulled harder. The bindings didn't move.

She leaned forward, enduring the pain, her shoulder screaming, she jerked, pulling with every thing she had.

She felt it slip! Just a little but it had slipped! She gulped air, screaming aloud, thankful that the soap and water she had left on her wrist was working. Another try should do it. Just a little more. It happened all at once. One moment she was bound to the disgusting bed, the next her hand slipped free! She had one hand free! She fell back, gasping for air, mentally willing the pain to ease, hoping the muscles wouldn't cramp. She had another hand to free.

The realization hit her right between the eyes like a sledgehammer. This, or something like it, had been what happened just before the accident. Her mind raced through the seconds before Fred lost control.

It had been her fault! All of this. Fred in the hospital, Velma's broken arm, all had been because of her!

_Fred had reached over to place his arm around her shoulder. She had snuggled close to kiss his cheek. She had seen the curve at the edge of the headlights; he had removed his arm from her shoulder, reaching for the cup of soda. He must have taken his eyes off the road for mere seconds placing the cup back in its holder. _

"_Look out, Freddie!" She screamed, but it was already too late. Even as he was being thrown forward, his last act had been to reach over, protecting her; he had prevented her from going through the windshield. He had ended up separating his shoulder with the effort but he had saved her life._

Tears seeped from the edges of her eyes as she reached for the other hand.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Crossroads

Chapter six: Resurrection

Part One

No one knew when his mind began its decent into the abyss. Bernard was his given name; only one of dozens of names he had used and forgotten. "Weird", "Deranged", "Insane" were some of the nicer names he had been called. Everyone agreed his elevator didn't make it to the upper floors. No boys invited him for a birthday party, sleepover or to play games. This left him to become a loner, socially inept and a stranger even to his family.

"I can't stand that kid, put him away or I'm leaving." He had heard the conversation between his father and mother. His mother had defended him but his father disappeared within the week. Bernard was happy when his father left, he had his mother all to himself. That was about the same time she started visiting sick friends.

Bernard, or "Bernie", as his mother had called him, made his way to an older part of the graveyard. His flashlight cut a cone shaped swatch through the early morning fog that swirled around the headstones. He stayed on the path between the gravestones, careful not to step on any graves. He didn't do this for any superstitious reasons or out of respect for the departed. He was in no rush this morning and simply didn't want to draw any undue attention to his movements. Passing by his mother's grave site, he stopped in front of his uncle's final resting place.

A third party had arranged the transfer of Pietro's body from prison to be buried here, next to his sister. Perhaps the death of his uncle had been the final push into the dark pit of insanity. "She's back, Uncle Pietro. Why wont she stay dead? I've killed her so many times."

Bernard had found the escapism of alcohol after he killed his mother the second time. The woman, red headed and full figured, had been intrigued with a behind-the-scenes tour of the puppet show. She had wanted it, repeatedly teasing him over the lip of her wine glass, letting him feast on brief glimpses of nylon covered thighs and her ample cleavage.

It had been too easy to lure her into the basement workroom; the wanted seduction had followed. She laughed at the idea of being secured to the bed, (the same bed where Daphne now lay, fighting the same straps), laughed when he removed the last of the silky undergarments. Her body responded to his ministrations, moaning softly, finding the game exciting. She had cried out at her release, never feeling the knife as he thrust it between her ribs. His own release came swiftly soon after. He found it very satisfying.

"She's waiting for me, Uncle. She's prettier than any of the others." He continued down the path, eventually stopping to use a pay phone. His anger grew as the phone rang repeatedly with no answer.

-Xxx

Part two

Daphne lay back, her hands free, resting strained muscles, breathing deeply from the exertion. Using her hands to push back as far as possible, she leaned forward to attack the leather straps holding her legs. She had always been limber, able to bend over, touching her toes. She had removed the first strap, freeing one foot, when she jerked up, listening. The noise was unmistakable, the scraping of shoes coming down stairs. The Freak was coming!

Frustrated, eyes wide with fright, Daphne lay back, sobbing, "Not now! Not after all this! It isn't fair!"

She had both hands and one foot free, not much she could do now but wait. Flashes of Fred and what might have been rushed through her mind but Freaky had told her Fred was dead.

"Come on, Freaky! I'm not playing your games anymore!"

"Daphne! Sweetheart, are you okay?" Relief flooded through her when she recognized Fred's voice. And then he was there, holding her, kissing her lips, wrapping her in the bedclothes.

"Freddie, you called me sweetheart!" He wasn't alone, Shaggy was there, removing the last restraint from her captured foot.

"Fred, get her to safety, we don't know how much time we have."

"He said you were dead. How..." But she was being smothered by dogie kisses as Scooby bounded onto the bed.

"Thank Shaggy, it was his brilliant idea. And we owe a box of Scooby Snacks to Scooby who found you so quickly." He had lifted her in his strong arms, carrying her.

Crying tears of joy, she smothered his face with kisses. "He's insane, you know." Daphne hung onto Fred's neck as he placed her on her feet.

"We're betting on it, sweetheart." Now, they could only wait.

Part three

_Flashback_

_The fire had been a pyre to celebrate the life of Uncle Pietro. He had brought laughter and entertainment to children and adults alike. The theater didn't have a kitchen area but he and his uncle had used an old, two burner camp stove. Bernard had bought a bottle of Vodka, lit the old gas camp stove. Splashing the alcohol over parts of the room he took several healthy slugs from the bottle before dumping the last on the cook top. _

_The alcohol wasn't as good as gasoline as an accelerate but it still exploded into blue flames, covering __the range. Bernard had stood transfixed, watching the flame chase the spirits throughout the small room. He had escaped mere seconds before being trapped by the hungry conflagration. _

_The building should have burned to the ground. Destroyed like his mother, in the guise of a member of Mystery Inc., had destroyed his uncle's life. Someone, an old person out walking their dog or perhaps it had been a young couple, making out in a parked car, had called in the alarm. The noise of sirens had __broken the still night air shortly after he had made his way into the basement._

_End flashback _

Somewhere in the depths of his twisted, demented mind a small glowing thought fought for recognition. He had been running; the heat of his anger driving him. Near the destroyed theater, self-preservation burst forth, forcing him to stop. He listened for any indication that someone or something lay in wait for him.

Reassured by the quiet that no ghosts haunted his steps, the way they did his dreams, he moved toward the trap door. The ghosts, all those that had met his knife, had dogged his paths since his first kill. He hadn't enjoyed the killings, except one. He could truly say he enjoyed the death of his mother's lover. Watching them on the man's bed, (he had never known his name), listening to her squeals of sexual pleasure had turned his stomach.

He had waited for his mother to leave, the man falling asleep before he forced the lock on the back door.

He pushed the details from his memory, his anger returning, burning brighter than ever before. He entered the basement.

The bed was empty! The object of his hatred gone! He stared at the rumpled bedding.

"Mother! Where are you?" He moved his head side to side, hunting the woman who wouldn't stay dead.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Crossroads

Chapter seven: Secrets

Part one

"I'm here." He turned, the last of his sanity drifting away like soft butter in a hot skillet. The red headed ghostly figure, still dressed in the short nightgown she had worn when he secured her to the bed, stepped forward. She stood with her arms held straight out, palms up. "I've come for you."

"As I have," a blond haired figure formed beside the first.

"And I." Another and yet another shape appeared. Each muttering the mantra, "I've come for you." The whitish mist roiled as more shapes appeared.

"No! No! I killed you all! You're not real!" He screamed, his eyes wide with fear. His only thought was to get away. To save himself. And so, he ran; falling in the debris, rolling to his feet, continuing to run.

A whistle sounded, reverberated throughout the room and beyond.

-Xxx

Part two

"You may want to change into something suitable before meeting the police." Velma handed over a small case. "We wouldn't want our kidnapped heroine meeting the authorities in her night clothes."

While the others cleared the dry ice and repacked the puppet costumes, Daphne stepped behind the filthy blanket the guys had arranged. "Sorry, Daphne," sheepishly, Fred averted his eyes, "this is the best we can do for now."

"It's okay Freddie. Thank you, guys." She wanted a shower, a long hot shower but that would have to wait. She pulled the night dress over her head, replacing it with her favorite underwear and wrap around dress. Getting dressed in regular clothes did wonders for her moral.

A whistle could be heard from outside, "Freddie, what was that?"

"A little surprise we had set up for that puppet weirdo. The police have the place surrounded; that was our signal that they have him in custody. It's over, Daphne."

Daphne had seen it before, knew what it was. The wheelchair leaned against the wall, abandoned, the seat torn with padding sticking out and falling onto the floor. The question wasn't what it was but why was it here? Freaky wouldn't need an wheelchair; his uncle had been in prison until his death two years previously.

"It's not over! Shaggy, get upstairs," Daphne was near screaming. "Get the police down here."

"What are you talking about, Daph. You're safe, that weirdo is on his way to jail." An astounded Fred wrapped her in his arms.

"I know his secret. Freddie, I want this guy put away so far he'll never see the light of day."

-Xxx

"What is this about, Miss Blake? What do you expect to find?" It hadn't taken Shaggy long to return with the police chief and several officers. Chief Carver was bald and losing the battle of the bulge after twenty-five years in law enforcement but still had a commanding air about him.

"I'm hoping I'm wrong, Chief." Daphne shivered, hugged herself and leaned into the comforting embrace of Fred's arms. "I can only imagine what we'll find."

The Chief looked like it was a waste of time but nodded at the officers. "Okay, boys. Open it up."

The old door creaked and groaned from neglect. What the light from their flashlights revealed made the group step back, nauseated. Chief carver had seen many things in his years of police work but nothing could have prepared him for what lay in the glare of the flashlights. A dozen or more skeletons littered the floor in a random, discarded manner. From the torn and shredded clothing most looked to be female but at this point nothing was a sure bet. But this wasn't what would haunt their thoughts for a long time.

In one corner, setting in a rotting armchair, the padding pooling on the floor, sat a shrunken, decomposed body. This time there was no mistake, sitting like a queen holding court over the scattered bones, the body was unquestionably female.

"Seal the room as a crime scene. Get on the horn for the corner. It's going to be a long night."

-Xxx

As soon as possible, after giving statements to the police, the gang and Scooby left the unsettling environment for the more pleasing surroundings of home. The trip was made in silence; Velma and Fred sat in the back while Shaggy drove, glancing often at Daphne sitting beside him.

Arriving at home, Shaggy went about making hot drinks, surprised to find only Daphne waiting in the living room.

"Where's Fred and Velma?" He sat the drinks on the coffee table, sitting beside her on the sofa.

"Fred said something about taking a pain pill and going to bed, guess his ribs are still hurting. I think all this has bothered Velma a lot more than she's letting on."

It was Daphne who noticed the blinking light on the answering machine, stretching to finger the 'replay' key. Sounds of traffic was all there was on the tape until the very end; "...Say goodbye to your friend!"

"That's him!" Her hands shook, her eyes growing wide in alarm. He took her in his arms, hugging her close.

"It's over, Daph." He caressed her hair until she calmed down. "He can't hurt you now."

"When did you get so smart? It was you that put the clues together, saved Fred, I want to know how, and you saved me."

She drew back, looking up into the concern in his eyes, "you're not as cowardly as you act."

His face, long and narrow as ever, reflected a warmth of spirit she missed in Fred. This man who comforted her now had a kindness and gentleness few got a chance to observe. He stood, pacing the room like a caged tiger.

He returned to the couch, sat beside the red head but he didn't wrap her in his arms. "I didn't do much...my fight or flight syndrome is more flight than fight. Once I realized the accident wasn't an accident, I thought it might be a good idea to have Fred moved to another room. It took some talking but after explaining to the doctor, he agreed. We set up a medical instructional dummy in Fred's room.

"I could have ran then, but you girls were in danger, I couldn't just leave you and Velma. I couldn't live with the consequences if I did."

"What do you think they'll do with...you know?"

"Oh, mental evaluation first to see if he's sane enough for trial. I doubt if he'll see a trial from what Velma found and the police will find."

"How did he get in, all the door were locked. Maybe we should have the locks re-keyed."

"I don't know what it's called but it's like a lock-gun. Highly illegal for public use; they're for police use only. The locksmith will be here in the morning."

"Well, I need a shower and sleep." Her lips were soft against his, "Thank you, Shaggy, for not running away. Good-night."

"Good-night, Daph. I think I'll clean up before I turn in."

-Xxx

Several days later...

It was completely against all the rules but that had never stopped Mystery Inc.; Daphne and the gang should never been allowed into the patient area. She rarely used her father's wealth or power to get what she wanted. This was one of those rare exceptions. Fred took her hand, intertwining their fingers in encouragement. She looked up into his eyes, smiled and then focused on the three men approaching in their direction.

Bernard had been cleaned up, dressed in white hospital pants and tee-shirt. He walked peacefully between two burly assistants, coming to a stop in front of the red head and blond. All the cleaning couldn't hide the damage the fire he had set had done to his face; no wonder he had worn a mask. One half of his face resembled cooked hamburger, one eye leaked watery fluid constantly.

"They say my son kidnapped you." It was strange to hear the feminine falsetto voice coming from a man's mouth. Daphne shuddered inwardly but gave no outward indication of her revulsion. "He was always a bad boy. His father wanted me to put him away but I couldn't do that to my son...could you?"

"Do you think they'll let me have a new dress?" The assistants pushed him-her-into a room. A single bed, bolted to the wall, was the only relief in the stark white room. "I'd like something in a periwinkle blue."

The closing door had the _click_ of eternal doom; with the closing of the door, their chore completed, the two assistants walked away to their next task. Daphne tried to follow but found she was drawn to the little window embedded in the door. The occupant walked to the bed, bending to examine the shackles attached at each corner. He-she-sat on the edge of the bed before looking back at the window and seeing the redhead looking in, smiled.

"Freddie, when I said I didn't want him to see the light of day ever again, I didn't imagine it would be like this."

Hand in hand, they walked quickly away.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Crossroads

Chapter eight: Crossroads

Two days passed without incident. Both girls noticed the increased attention from the guys; holding chairs, opening doors, touches that were more caress than mere touching. On the third day the morning awoke with a splash of warm colors. The doorbell rang and Daphne announced she would get it. Fred tried to go with her but was gently rebuffed.

She called several moments after they heard the door open, "Hey, guys! Come see my surprise!"

The black van sat in the driveway, "It's the same make and model of our old van. This way all we have to do is transfer all the 'improvements' you guys added and a new paint job. Murph, our part time mechanic will take our old van."

"How? How can we ever thank you, Daphne?" Fred kissed her cheek.

"You could start by taking me back to my shop." Murph laughed, heading toward the van.

-Xxx

Two men passed each other in the darkened hallway; no words are voiced except, "see you in the morning." and the answer, "Maybe."

The door opened just enough for him to enter, closing quickly and silently. The only noise was the rustle of bed coverings being raised in an implicit invitation. The bed accepted and adjusted to the extra weight. He gathered her in his arms, smelling the scent of her freshly shampooed hair. Her hand at the back of his neck drew him to her slightly parted lips.

"Freddie, have you ever thought about the crossroads we face in life?"

"Not much...what do you mean."

"Each of us face crossroads. We travel along the road of life and a crossroads looms before us. Take Shaggy, he faced a crossroads and he had friends in trouble and he made a decision based on that. I think Bernard found his mother with another man and saw that as the ultimate betrayal. I don't know if he and his mother were lovers, it really doesn't matter, but I wouldn't be surprised. Where Shaggy had the inner strength, Bernard's mind shattered, split. He killed his mother's lover and her and he's went on killing her over and over and over. In his twisted mind, he thought I was his mother, his lover.

"You were the first, he thought he'd killed you but Shaggy saved you. Velma would have been his next target, then Shaggy. We put his uncle in prison after all, add to that his fixation on me and the mother's strong personality and you have what we just witnessed. I don't think 'Bernard' even exists anymore except buried so deep he will never have the forcefulness to over rule his 'mother'.

"Jinkies, listen to me, I'm sounding like Velma."

"What put you onto all this?" His lips found the tender spot at the hollow of her neck, provoking a low sultry moan. One hand ventured down, caressing her breast.

"The wheelchair, Freddie. He obviously didn't escape the fire without his face being damaged. The only way he could take a lover was kidnapping and subsequently killing her. He used the wheelchair to transport the body to that horrible room. He'd see his mother's corpse but he had his 'mother' in the wheelchair; his mind couldn't reconcile the two so he emptied the wheelchair.

"He told me once that his friends, the rats, liked their food dipped in blood. If you guys hadn't shown up, I would have been their next entree.

"_We_ are coming up on a crossroads, Freddie. I love you, I wonder what your decision will be?"

"I've been thinking..."

"That's a first..." Her fingers played at the buttons of his pajama top.

"Very funny, Daph. Actually, the only questions is will you marry me? And, where would you like to go on our honeymoon?"

"Do you realize how long I've waited..." their lips met, soft, yielding, inviting..."for this? I hear Hawaii is great this time of year."

"You just want an excuse to wear that purple flowered bikini." His hands located the hem of her nightie; she rose, assisting in the removal of the flimsy garment.

"For your eyes only, darling. I love you, Freddie." She had given up with the buttons, pushing the top over his head.

"I love you too, Daph. What about Shaggy and Velma?"

"How many times has Shaggy said or done something that helped Velma solve a mystery? I think Velma is ready to admit her feelings."

-Xxx

Across the hall, Velma had been surprised when Shaggy entered her bedroom. She lay on her bed, dressed in a simple nightgown. She had read half of the paperback mystery, solved the mystery including why and how. The problem was she wasn't in the mood for sleep and the dreams that would follow.

"What are you doing in my bedroom, Shaggy?" She found the warm, pleasant feelings at his appearance disturbing.

"I'm just locking up for the night, thought I'd check your windows. Want to help me?"

"Why do you need my help? Shaggy, our bedrooms are on the _second _floor." She rose from the bed, joining him at the window.

"Can't be too careful. Never know when a cat burglar will show up."

"Are you trying to scare me? After Daphne's experience, I'm scared enough."

"I'm here, Velma. Scooby and I will protect you." His arm snaked around her waist; she had to step closer. "The stars are pretty bright tonight."

"I do have some Scooby Snacks, and I would feel better if I knew you two were on guard. Just where did you plan to sleep?" Her hand tangled in his hair.

"I could bring over some blankets from my room, we'll bed down on the floor."

"Don't block the bathroom! Shaggy, the stars are dazzling tonight."

"Not to mention romantically impressive."

"Romantic? When did you get romantic inclinations?"

"Since now." He leaned down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. Astonished that she didn't object, but was returning the kiss, he prolonged the contact.

Later, stretched out on the floor, tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position, his mind replayed the memorable kiss. And Velma's reaction.

"Shaggy, are you asleep?" He rested his head in the palm of his hand at the whispered question.

"This floor is not conducive to sleep."

"Why don't you come up here..."

It didn't take a second invitation for him to join her. "Velma, I know the last few days have been troubling, what would you think if we took a vacation to get away for a while?"

She snuggled into his waiting arms, a finger tracing a line down his cheek, ending at his chin. "I hear Hawaii is good for hugging and kissing."

"Well, I think we need get in some practice first."

-Xxx

In the darkest part of the night, the fog rolled in off the ocean. Thick, heavy, it covered Coolsville in a soft, if wet, blanket of pure white. Trees became ghostly shadows, moisture dripping from their leaves. There was little or no traffic except big semi-trucks going about their rounds for deliveries. The traffic lights continued their duty, orange chasing away the green, only to be replaced by red; the colors diffused by the wet blanket.

Velma woke to Nature's urgent call. She had always slept alone; now she found herself encased in a man's arms. After answering a different call of Nature, twice to be exact, they had fallen asleep spoon fashion. Lifting his left arm, she scooted away; she didn't need her glasses, she knew the way to the bathroom blindfolded. With her eyesight it was the same thing.

Returning to the bed by the same circuit, she was faced with a quandary: What was the correct etiquette for the morning after? Did she slip back into bed, into his arms or did she wake him, talk a while before returning to sleep? She decided on the former only to find him awake.

"Good morning, Cowardly Lion." He drew her into a warm embrace, kissing her lips. The fact that her body had responded to his caresses had been expected; what had flabbergasted both of them was the intensity of that response. She had spent a lifetime building walls around her heart and emotions. In one night, Shaggy had destroyed the walls and opened a wellspring of passion.

Slipping into the spoon position, his hand cupping her breast, they fell asleep.

Not much time had passed before her eyes flew open. A noise had disturbed her sleep but what had that noise been? Easing up, careful not to disturb Shaggy, she looked around the room.

"Who's there?" Her voice thick with fear.

"Scooby Dooby Doo!"

THE END


End file.
